Circean
by cynical24
Summary: Ike enters the world of Smash Bros. Meets Marth. Things happen...Eventual IkexMarth. Rated T...for now...
1. Chapter 1

Why, hello. So it seems that the title of my fictional piece has captivated your interest enough to make you click on it, as I'm sure my summary wasn't the thing that motivated you. A forewarning to you, the title has absolutely nothing to do with the story. I was simply looking for a word that would make readers such as yourselves interested in my story, and if you are reading this, then my plan has worked. That said, I have to admit something about my summary, or lack of a real one. The reason being is that I really don't have any idea where this is going other than it will eventually be IkexMarth. The "things happen" part as mentioned in the summary is pretty much non-existent and has yet to be thought of. If my writing is lacking or anything at all is lacking, I apologize in advance as this is my first time writing.

For those that are curious, "circean" is an adjective derived from "Circe", the enchantress who turned Odysseus's men into swine. That said, "circean" can be loosely defined as something akin to dangerous beauty.

Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. Anything.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 1<p>

* * *

><p>Marth could not believe his foul luck. It was bad enough that the only other brawler form his "universe", as everybody called it, was a mercenary and that said mercenary had already done more than one deed to piss off the prince, but this, <em>this<em> was unacceptable. Absolute blasphemy. A cruel joke.

Let's rewind…

So, this morning, Marth woke up and started his day like every other, with small menial tasks pertaining to his personal hygiene. But even before he woke up, he knew it wasn't going to be a good day. Two days prior, he had been informed that a welcoming party for the newest brawlers of Super Smash Bros. would take place today. (Marth had always thought the "Super" was rather egoistical, but who was he to question?)

Anyway, even as a child Marth had disliked attending these types of social events. It wasn't because he was anti-social, it was just that they often lacked a sincere quality. When he had to attend such parties in his childhood, he would witness people praising others of their latest accomplishment. But people always undermined the observant prowess of a young, educated noble. Marth could always tell when the smiles were fake, when the good wishes were insincere. Deep down, aristocrats all hated each other. That's just how things were.

The point is, Marth hated these functions and hated having to pretend that he cared. To be perfectly honest, there was little benefit Marth would gain from this welcoming party. Sure he would be able to see them and perhaps make some educated judgment regarding their combat abilities, but he knew better than anyone that outward appearance was hardly an appropriate determiner of skill. People often thought him weak and fragile upon seeing his feminine figure and Marth would inevitably prove them wrong on some level.

Well, the welcoming party wasn't going anywhere and Marth wasn't allowed to evade it. But it wasn't to take place until evening, so Marth was free to do as he pleased in the morning. And so, he decided to train.

Having been in this strange, new world for over a year now, Marth had still not discovered any new hobbies aside from training and reading. Things like "driving" an oddly-shaped box on four wheels or playing basketball or watching television were still much too foreign for him to enjoy. He preferred the more traditional ways of passing time, despite Fox's constant nagging about how he was too "historic" and that he needed to "evolutionalize", whatever that meant. That, and Fox was adamant that Marth "embrace technology". As far as Marth was concerned, "technology" was neither human nor animal, not even a stuffed toy! How he supposed to embrace something like that was beyond his comprehension.

In any case, talk about Fox and technology could wait for a later date. Marth needed to train. He was intent on practicing his form rather than speed and movement, so he had booked a traditional style dojo room to work on what he needed. Even though many people have told him his form was impeccable, he always believed there was room for improvement.

The point is, Marth booked, therefore reserved, a room.

So when he opened said reserved room and found it occupied he was truly perplexed. It was an unspoken rule between brawlers that they would never take someone else's training room without permission. The moment Marth laid eyes on the intruder he had a feeling creep within him. And it was no good feeling. The ruffled sapphire hair, rough expression, muscular build and brute strength all told Marth that this man was basically his polar opposite.

Seeing as how the unfamiliar man failed to notice Marth's entry, Marth decided to knock lightly on the door. As he anticipated, the sound alerted the stranger's attention. The man turned around and…wait. Was Marth seeing things right? Did that guy just give him some creepy grin?

Marth watched the man lower his sword. Had he not been so distracted by the grin, he would have been able to put a name to the sword. The man sauntered over all too egoistically. Just as Marth was about to explain to him the matter of trespassing into his room, the other spoke first.

"Hello beautiful. Never thought such a fine lady like yourself would be in a competition like this."

Whoa! What? Lady? Seriously?

Okay. So yes, Marth was a bit on the feminine side when it came to body build but not every feminine-looking person is female and not every masculine-looking person is male. It was completely unreasonable for this man to automatically assume he was female. Sure people have had questions about his gender before, but at least they tried to make sure of their suspicions before they said anything that could offend the prince. This man had no sense of that.

"You look angry," the stranger observed. "Oh, I must've taken your training room, huh? Sorry, didn't mean to."

Marth was still processing the mistaken gender issue and the subsequent flirtatious behavior from the man so he was unable to form any type of proper reply.

"Aw, don't keep making that face. It's not cute. Come on, I'll make it up to you next time we meet, alright beautiful? Well, I'll see you around." Slinging his sword onto his shoulder, he brushed past Marth casually.

Marth was about to turn around and give some sort of witty reply that would clarify his gender and leave the man in stupor, but when he turned around to deliver his wisdom the unfamiliar face was already out of sight. Marth wasn't too happy with this. There was a big idiot out there who thinks he's a woman. Damn if he doesn't fix this misconception soon. But dwelling on the matter wasn't going to help his situation so he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and focused on what he came here to do.

Evening came much too quickly for Marth's liking. Before he knew it, he was dragging his feet back to his room to shower in preparation for the event. After cleansing himself and silently cursing at Master Hand for making attendance mandatory, Marth finally trudged his way to the dining hall. As soon as he entered the hall, he heard his name being called. Looking in the direction of the voice, he spotted Princess Peach frantically waving at him, with Link and Zelda beside her. Although he liked Peach very much, she was too much of a social butterfly and Marth wasn't too keen about being overly friendly to everybody today. He sighed. Curse him for being a good friend.

"Glad to see you decided to show up," Link commented, fully aware of Marth's dislike for these social gatherings and always half-expected him to bail out.

"I don't believe I had a choice," Marth replied dryly.

Link merely smirked at his friend's obvious lack of enjoyment. Not that he wanted to be here either, but… Nada. Nothing reasonable came up to finish that sentence and Link understood all too well Marth's unwillingness to be here.

Peach noticed her friend's lack of excitement and decided to comment, "Aww, come on, Marth. You should be looking forward to this. I hear one of the newcomers this year is from your universe."

Marth rolled his eyes at the mention of "universe". There it was again. He was unsure why, but everybody here was adamant that he came from the Fire Emblem universe. The idea was simply barbaric. Marth was no stupid man. In fact, he was a highly educated individual. He has had nothing but the best of teachers teach him all that he knows now and not once did any of them mention they lived in a universe called Fire Emblem. He knew something existed called the fire emblem, but he was sure their universe wasn't named after it. Anyhow, Marth had learned it was best to let them say what they want. He had once tried to convince them that that wasn't the case but his efforts were futile.

"I hear he's also quite handsome," Zelda added, smiling at Peach with a look of understanding that Marth never did understand.

Marth decided now was a good time to stop listening. There was no doubt in his mind that they would start giggling and gushing about this apparently-handsome man's looks even though they've never seen him before. He looked around and finally noticed something out of place. "Where's Mario?"

"He went…" Link paused to think of where Peach's lover went, "…I don't know where he went. He came to the hall with me so he should be in here somewhere."

Marth didn't have any reason to look for Mario, but he scanned the room for the short man and his signature red hat. It gave him something to do. Before he could finish looking for Mario, the lights dimmed and welcomed them all to tonight's event. Marth briefly noted that the voice was the same as the one who yelled, "3, 2, 1, GO!" and "GAME!" before and after a brawl. And like those incidences, it was merely a voice; there was no visible concrete being that may be attributed to the voice.

"For our first newcomer, please welcome Pit, from Kid Icarus!" the voice boomed loudly.

A young man with spikey brown hair and a neat garland on his head walked on stage. He wore a white outfit and owned a set of beautiful white wings. And it was no mystery to anybody that Pit was an angel. What intrigued Marth was Pit's weapon. Personally, he never imagined angels to be the type to wield weapons. So if they did wield weapons, what would their ideal choice be? His attention was focused on the double-ended blade that Pit carried. With a quick move, Pit split the two ends and formed two short swords instead. How interesting. Whether the sword was hitched together or not, Marth speculated that Pit was a close combat fighter, like himself.

"Next, we have Wario!"

This brawler, unlike the previously mentioned Pit, Marth was not too fond of. Just looking at the way he dressed: blue t-shirt, torn jean jacket, fuchsia pants, and a pink belt, Marth knew he was a rowdy fellow. Disregarding the horrible fashion statement, the short man also bore the ugliest mustache Marth had ever seen. Also, the way he entered the stage on a motorbike told Marth the stout man was far from being a civil individual. (Marth didn't take much time to consider how the man managed to get permission to ride a motorbike into the dining hall, especially since the gas emission heavily polluted the air, according to a conversation Marth overheard between Donkey Kong and Captain Falcon. In all honesty, Marth wasn't sure what "pollution" was, but he did know that he did not like the smell of burning gasoline. At least, that's what Falco told him these things run on.)

"From Fire Emblem, please give a warm applause for Sir Ike of the Greil Mercenaries!"

Marth's eyes nearly bulged out of its sockets. This was the guy who mistook him for a woman in the training room. And he was a mercenary! Cornelius, Marth's father, had once told him that mercenaries were not good people and should never be trusted. And since then, nothing ever came along to disprove that, so Marth had always believed that to be true. So, considering this morning's incident and added to that the fact that this man was a mercenary, Marth's impression of Ike was anything but good.

He overheard Peach and Zelda talking in whispered voices about Ike's good looks before he had a chance to really assess the man. And just as Peach and Zelda had predicted, this man was not lacking in the handsome department. But that was not what Marth cared about. Ike's strength was irrefutable; it was evident in the way he held his sword. If Marth recalled correctly, this golden sword Ike wielded was none other than the divine blade, Ragnell, meant to be wielded with two hands. Seeing Ike effortlessly bring Ragnell from below his waist to atop his shoulders with one hand, Marth knew Ike was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield.

"Next, let's welcome the speed demon, Sonic the Hedgehog!"

If Marth had thought he was fast compared to his fellow brawlers, he would have to reconsider. Sonic possessed a fast that wasn't humanly possible. Having already been introduced to Kirby and Pikachu when he first got here, the fact that Sonic was a hedgehog hardly fazed him. But Sonic's speed did faze him. And although Marth had no idea what Sonic's attack methods are or how strong his attack power was, it would still be hard to win against something moving that fast.

After Sonic, seven more brawlers were introduced before The Voice finally announced that dinner may be served. And thank goodness too. If Marth had to sit and listen to introductions any longer, he was going to personally pick an apricot tree and survive on the nutrients provided by the fruit for the night. He glanced around the room after the lights went on and noticed the dining hall was now filled with tables and chairs that weren't previously there. This was a mystery Marth would never understand. Every time an event was held in the dining room, the hall would always be empty when everyone first arrived. Then, the lights would inevitably turn off for some type of welcoming speech by either Master Hand, Crazy Hand, or The Voice. After, the lights would turn back on and voila! Tables and chairs. All set with tablecloth and dinnerware too. Whenever Marth tried to ask anybody about how it worked, they always avoided the subject as if it were a great sin to speak of it.

Just as Marth and the other were about to take a seat at one of the miraculously-appearing tables, a voice stopped them in their advance.

"Good evening, ladies. It must be my lucky day to be able to dine with three beautiful women tonight." Ike bowed lightly, "I'm Ike." (And yes, Link was completely disregarded here. Marth and Link noticed, but Peach and Zelda did not.)

Link gave Marth a look that asked "did he just say _three_?" and to that Marth could only grace Link with a cold glare. Zelda and Peach would have picked up on the miscount if they weren't so busy admiring the man up close.

Peach extended her hand and greeted, "I'm Peach, princess of the Mushroom Kingdom."

Like a gentleman, Ike took her hand and lightly kissed the back of it.

"Zelda, princess of Hyrule Kingdom," Zelda introduced, with just a little less enthusiasm than Peach.

After doing the same to Zelda what he did to Peach, Ike turned to Marth expectantly. Marth nearly smirked. Ike was in for a shock. Without extending his hand, he spoke, "Marth, _prince_ of Altea."

Ike's eyes widened for a split second before his face turned into a wide grin that was reminiscent of the one he gave Marth earlier today. Before Marth could protest, Ike grabbed Marth's hand and planted a kiss on the back like he did with Peach and Zelda. "Nice to meet you, _princess_."

If it wasn't criminal to kill out of hatred and equally unsightly for a prince to show such rash behavior, Marth would have put Falchion to Ike's throat. This man was deliberately trying to piss him off and that just did not sit well with Marth.

"Would you care to dine with us, Ike?" Peach invited cordially.

Either Peach had not heard or she chose to ignore Ike's insult. Either way, Marth could hardly fathom the idea of eating with this man. How could Peach be so oblivious to the injustice bestowed upon him by this insolent fool? And where was Mario? Shouldn't he keep better tabs on his woman? Surely he wouldn't be okay with Ike eating dinner with them. Whether or not Mario was here to stop Peach, Marth was not about to sit and eat with Ike. So before Ike could give a reply to Peach, Marth courteously excused himself from the group.

Link followed Marth, realizing that he was not about to get any attention from the two women here or even from Ike, not that he wanted any from Ike. They took a seat and Link decided to start up some conversation, "So you don't seem too fond of Ike."

"Really? Was I that obvious?" Marth answered.

Link couldn't tell if Marth was being sarcastic or not so he just shrugged his shoulders. "Guess the guy's a bit arrogant."

"A bit?"

"Okay, maybe a lot. But we only just met him. Maybe he's actually a nice guy."

"Mercenaries from my," he paused here wondering if he should use the word, "…universe, are not nice people."

"What if you've been misled?"

"Why are you defending him?"

Link shrugged, "Something to do?"

Marth sighed, "Whatever. Let's not talk about him."

Link shrugged. He didn't care about what their topic of conversation was, as long as he wasn't bored, he was fine. And since Ike spent his dinner with the ladies, Marth had a rather nice dinner also. Given that neither man really enjoyed having to stay here any longer than was necessary, Marth and Link both decided to retire to their separate rooms after they finished their meal.

Marth could see his room at the end of the hallway. However, as he was approaching it, he couldn't help but feel as if something was out of place, something was different about it. And even as he got closer and closer, he could not pinpoint what was not right. Until, he reached the door and he saw it. On the wall to the right of the door there were two nameplates. One said "MARTH", and that was normal. That had always been there. What was not there this morning that was here now was the second nameplate.

It read: IKE

This had got to be a cruel joke.

* * *

><p>END CHAPTER 1<p>

* * *

><p>And there you have it, my first chapter of my first piece of fanfiction. If you think anyone is outrageously out of character and would like me to fix it, please let me know and I will try to fix it.<p>

If you have something nice to say, please review.

If you have some advice to give, please lend me your wisdom.

If you have bad things to say, please do your worst.

If you have nothing to say, thank you for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Sigh. No progress. Still not mine.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 2<p>

* * *

><p><em>Why, in the name of the heavens, is his name on top?<em>

Marth continued to glare heatedly at the nameplate. Although he knew all the rooms had their occupants' names listed alphabetically, he still found it an injustice. When Roy, who left the competition, was his roommate, Marth's name was on top. Just like it should be. He was a prince. He couldn't be below anybody. And certainly not Ike. It was as if his name standing below Ike's was a great offense to him and his family. How could a filthy mercenary be above a prince in any way, shape, or form? The thought was preposterous.

And yet, here it was.

Wait. This wasn't the important part. The most important thing at this point was the fact that Marth had to share a room with a rude bastard called Ike. Had he known where Master Hand dwelled, Marth would surely have gone and pierced Falchion through his palm. Damn that five-fingered entity.

Marth needed a plan. A plan that would get Ike out of this room.

Well, let's start with the nameplate. Marth, taking a deep breath and facing the reality that at the moment stated he and Ike shared a room, slowly approached the double nameplates. He looked at them from all angles. His plan was to just take Ike's name off the nameplate and switch it with his neighbor's. Apparently, Fox's new roommate was someone, or something, named Olimar. Whatever it was, it was surely to be better than Ike. However, Marth had no idea how to initiate his plan. He had no idea how these nameplates stuck to the wall. There were no screws or anything of the like. And if it was glue, it could be pried off. But even with his sword Falchion, Marth apologized to his sword in advance for having to use it for such an unworthy task, it could not cut through the stuff between the back of the plate and the wall. What the hell was that on the wall?

Before Marth could formulate any new plots, he saw a figure with blue hair darker than his own walking his way. He watched the speck of blue hair grow bigger and bigger in size as footsteps got louder and louder. And soon, he found Ike standing beside him staring at the nameplates. He cursed Ashera for his lack of movement while watching Ike approach.

"Hm? Well, isn't this interesting, princess?" Ike grinned.

Marth paid no heed to his words and entered the room then, making sure to slam the door in Ike's face. He hoped that Ike had been standing close enough for the door to hit his nose or something. Unfortunately, when our most favourite mercenary entered the room, he was bearing no redness on his face and in fact remained as handsome as before. Curse his bad timing. He should have waited till Ike took one more step!

"Get out of my room," Marth ordered with his princely tone.

"I do believe, Your Highness, that this room belongs to me also."

Marth glared at Ike. It was clear Ike was mocking his position as a prince. "I can have that changed."

Ike clicked his tongue and dropped the grin he had on his face. "Tch. Typical."

Marth shot Ike a look. "Typical?"

"Typical a haughty prince like you wouldn't even try to cope with people you don't like. Little princess here gets everything she wants, huh?"

"Firstly, I do not believe there is a reason justifiable enough for me to waste time coping with a conceited mercenary such as you. And secondly, the idea that princes and princesses get everything they want is false."

Ike's face changed from that of mainly nonchalance to that of anger. "No reason justifiable enough? Conceited mercenary? Tch. Like you're any better with your holier-than-thou attitude. I'm surprised someone hasn't tied you up and left you to rot in a dungeon."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means your attitude sucks."

"You are free to request a room change."

"Unlike you, I actually try to cope with others. But if you can't bear with me, then maybe you should request a room change."

Although Marth initially did intend to request a room change for Ike, somehow, he couldn't do it anymore. Ike had basically challenged him. And he would be no prince if he did not accept this challenge. If it was a challenge of endurance Ike wanted, he would get it. Marth swore to himself and Ashera that by the end of the month, he would have Ike begging Master Hand to relocate him to another room, even if it meant Marth had to use underhanded, immature tactics to achieve the desired results.

"A prince never backs down from a challenge."

"Fine. We'll see how long you last, princess."

* * *

><p>Marth could scarcely believe what he was doing. Had his father been alive today to see this, Cornelius would very much have disowned him right then and there. This was foolish. It was immature. It was hardly prince-like. And yet, here he was, doing the unthinkable. Yes. He wasn't sure what had overcome him. A strange force of nature? A goddess? No, Ashera was the goddess of order; she would never do something like this. Maybe Yune, she was the goddess of chaos; this was something she would do.<p>

Marth nodded to himself in assurance, having come up with a justifiable reason for his actions. There exists a goddess of chaos because chaos is needed to balance the order in the world. With the laws and regulations of his day, and the future, from what he hears of conversations between Fox, Wolf, and Falco regarding licenses and permits, order is hardly lacking in the universe. And in order to balance this order, chaos must be employed. It would simply be unfathomable of Marth to not give a helping hand in restoring the universe's balance.

Resolution in mind, Marth proceeded to pour the liquid into the bottle that read "Shampoo". Even as he poured the liquid, he could barely come to terms with himself for resorting to pranking his roommate in an effort to get him to request a room change. It had been unspoken, but whoever went and requested a room change first was the loser. Nothing was at stake in this little challenge but their pride and integrity. A small part of Marth's brain that still thought like a prince told him his very actions contradicted the pride and integrity he was trying to uphold. The current Marth told the Prince Marth to shut up. Please note it is definitely not a recurring event that Marth talks to himself. It only happens in dire situations. Apparently, having to share a room with an unpleasant mercenary is considered a dire situation. Don't question it.

Capping the bottle, Marth continued with his next order of business. First, he squeezed out all the toothpaste that was left in the tube and hid all full ones in his room somewhere. Returning to the bathroom, Marth destroyed the can of shaving cream and used whatever tool available to dull the blade of the razor. A part of Marth wondered if his doings would even affect his roommate. Seeing that he is a mercenary, Marth wasn't even sure the man knew the definition of personal hygiene. Surely they just traveled over the continent looking for ways to make money. Hygiene was hardly their main concern. Or so, Marth thought. Thinking back, Ike did not smell of feces and alcohol like he expected mercenaries to smell like. Ike actually smelled like…well, he wasn't sure what Ike smelled like. He was no dog. His sense of smell wasn't that great. He just knew Ike smelled. Not in a good or bad way. Just smelled. And since it wasn't bad, Marth thought it would be safe to assume Ike did take care of his hygiene to some extent and that his efforts would not go to waste.

Marth stared at the toilet paper by the toilet and at the cupboard under the sink that concealed the extra toilet paper. Since he had already done his business that morning, he could very well hide all the toilet paper from Ike. Surely that would make anyone mad. But the thought of Ike walking around…unclean and him knowing it wasn't as pleasant as Marth would have liked it to be. For the greater good of all the people in the land, Marth would spare the toilet paper. They could stay.

Looking around at his handiwork, Marth smirked. _This is only the beginning, Ike._

* * *

><p>Marth arrived for breakfast in a jovial mood that morning, despite waking up much earlier than usual. Mostly to get his supplies. He was thankful that the manor had everything they could possibly need. It reminded him of something he read in a book, a book called Harry Potter. And in said book, there was this Room of Requirement that became what you needed it to become. The manor was kind of like that. But not really. It didn't disappear into a wall or change shape. It simply had whatever you were looking for. And Marth could not be more grateful for it than today.<p>

"You look happy," Link commented. It would seem he had noticed Marth's complete change of mood compared to yesterday. "Something good happen?"

"Not yet," Marth replied.

Link responded with a curious look. Last time he checked, Marth was not skilled in the art of foretelling the future. And he was absolutely sure he couldn't have learned it in one night. If fortune-telling was that easy to learn, Link wouldn't have had to go to that lady in Castle Town all those times just to find out where he could get a Piece of Heart.

Marth noticed the look Link gave him and merely responded with, "You'll see."

Link shrugged. He didn't like to doubt his friends, but he wasn't so sure about Marth's fortune telling skills right now. Minutes passed by and nothing but idle conversation happened. He would never consider himself a genius, but Link was pretty sure idle chat wasn't categorized under "something good happening". True, it wasn't bad. But idle conversation wasn't interesting enough to be classified as good. And his trust in Marth's abilities to see the future further diminished.

So when Ike walked into the room, nearly half an hour after Marth gave his reading of the future, Link could not help but gain a newfound appreciation for Marth's foretelling skills. Surely seeing a normally blue-haired mercenary walk in with pink hair classified as "something good happening". Although it wasn't so much pink as it was fuchsia. In fact, it reminded Link of Wario's pants. Not that Link was paying special attention to Wario, just that his pants were so hideous you literally couldn't look away. It was only then that Link found out how much he actually despised the color fuchsia.

"I must say, it really was worth it to take my time and pick out the perfect color."

Link looked at his friend as if he had grown two heads. His friend, the perfect Prince, pulled a prank on someone? What was the world coming to? "_You _did this?"

"Who else?" Marth smirked.

"Aren't you a prince?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I don't get irritated."

"And I suppose that the mere presence of Ike irritates you. And that he keeps calling you princess."

"Correct."

Before Link could make a mental note to himself to never piss off the Prince, a presence made itself known at his table. He looked up to see one Ike that looked less angry than he should be. Had Link been the one subject to Wario-pants colored hair, he would surely be nothing less than murderous.

"Well, isn't our little princess mature," Ike commented sarcastically.

"What's with your teeth?" Link asked, noticing that instead of Ike's hair being blue, his teeth were blue.

"Food coloring," Marth answered for Ike. He grinned lightly. Since he had emptied out the toothpaste that morning, it was more than likely that Ike would use the bottle of mouthwash to freshen his breath, given that he had enough decency to spare others the horrors of morning breath. And of course, the mouthwash being already a blue color, there was little to no harm if Marth decided to make the liquid even more blue. "Don't worry, it won't kill you."

"It'll come off eventually," Link added.

Ike gave Link a look that said _who the hell are you?_ But he didn't bother with voicing that question. He was worried about other things. "When?"

Link shrugged his shoulders, "Not sure, never had excess food coloring in my mouth before."

The glare Link received from Ike told him he should have chosen his words more carefully. Now it probably sounded like he was mocking Ike, which he had no intention of doing. All he was trying to do was give a truthful answer. Maybe he should have spoken with a little more sympathy in his voice. Well, at least he didn't say it spitefully.

"You're welcome to request a room change if you can't tolerate the presence of an immature, haughty prince," Marth told. At this point, he just wanted the man out of the same room as him. He didn't care if he had to belittle himself a little bit in the process. It was all in the name of the greater good of society.

The reminder of their undeclared challenge turned Ike's frown into a grin. "If that's the best you got, princess, I think I'll stick around a little longer."

* * *

><p>It seemed like a good idea at the time. But don't all ideas? But Marth was an educated prince; he was smarter than the average person in his country. He's had countless lessons with countless wise professors. So where was all that wisdom and intelligence when he first decided to prank Ike? Why had it not warned him that he would end up in this tiresome war?<p>

He recalled a small part of him that tried to stop him and waved the memory away.

This was getting tiresome. Marth had thought by putting Ike through some humiliation by his hands, the man would back down and leave. But that was not the case. Instead Ike countered with everything he could think of.

For example, when Marth had dyed Ike's hair that awful fuchsia color, Ike actually flaunted it. He still walked like he owned the world. He still stood with that self-egoistic pride in his eyes. Nothing he did showed that he suffered any humiliation from Marth's little deed at all. In fact, Ike even started asking people if he should keep the color. That was until Wario noticed it one day and commented that it was the same color as his pants. And then he even suggested that he and Ike could be buddies since they both share a love for the fuchsia. Apparently, that night, Ike got his hands on some blue hair dye that matched his natural color and promptly got rid of the pinkish purple color. He wasn't going to wait for it to wash out. Who knows what kind of weird things Wario might say to him if he kept the color.

But that wasn't just it. Marth found himself being pranked in return. Apparently, while Marth was out, Ike had stolen his white uniform and put it in the wash. If that were strictly the case, Ike would have been pegged a kind individual. However, that wasn't the case. Oh no. Ike had decided to wash Marth's pristine white uniform with Wario's pants. How he got his hands on Wario's pants, no one would ever know, as Ike refused to answer. Well of course, Ike's deed did not end well. In fact, Marth was so outraged that he wasn't sure if he should slice Ike's throat first or Wario's for even owning such an ugly pair of pants. Had Marth decided to kill Wario at that moment, he would have spared himself an awkward conversation similar to that of the one between Ike and Wario. (No, Marth had not worn the outfit. He was carrying it back to his room when Wario coincidentally passed by and happened to notice the lovely color of Marth's uniform.)

Something had to be done.

So he had a meeting with Ike.

"_Ike. We need to talk," Marth said firmly._

"_What do you want, princess?" Ike answered. "Don't tell me you've given up already?"_

"_Don't be ridiculous. I simply have a proposition."_

"_And why should I listen to any proposition of yours?"_

"_Because it will likely benefit you as well."_

_Ike raised a brow. At this point, he was sure there was nothing that could possibly benefit them both._

"_No fuchsia."_

_Ike retracted his former thoughts. That was certainly beneficial for him as well. "Deal."_

Actually, it was a rather civil conversation. Minus the one mention of "princess", Marth found that Ike was rather tolerable then. Likeable even. Nah. Who was he kidding? Ike was just tolerable. Most of the time, he was barely tolerable.

Their little war had gone on for weeks. Marth was really running out of ideas. At first, he tried to get ideas from Link, but that was no help. Link liked the people in his town. He had never pranked a person in his life. All he was ever really focused on was saving his world from being enveloped in twilight. He knew nothing of pranks.

Having no luck with Link, Marth consulted with his neighbor, Fox. He had weird ideas. Actually, they weren't so much weird as they were confusing. He talked of wiring this to that and using the computer to do this and that. Mostly, Marth thought he was speaking a foreign language. So when Fox finished his rant and gave Marth a big smile as if he had just given Marth the greatest idea in all the universe, Marth simply nodded and said he'd think about it. He didn't think about it.

His next option was Lucas and Ness. They were children. Children prank each other all the time. But when Marth thought about what exactly he was about to do, he stopped. He was already being childish enough as it was, continuing this pranking war with Ike. Getting ideas and advice from children would be like rubbing it in his face how childish he's actually acting. Deciding he didn't want to humiliate himself, he skipped right past Lucas and Ness's room, as if he never had any intention of going there in the first place.

Somehow, a part of him thought that Snake could help him. And it would seem that that part of him was right. He wasn't sure what Snake did for a living. But he did know Snake was a sneaky guy. (He freaking hides under a box at will! When there are no boxes around! No one can possibly be sneakier.) Being a sneaky guy, he must have trick or two up his sleeve for disrupting enemy morale or something. Turns out, Snake used to prank people all the time simply for enjoyment. _"Life's short. Gotta enjoy what ya can when ya can,"_ he said. Snake gave Marth many ideas; most of which were brilliant, some of which Marth had to question its safety. He was looking for a prank, not a way to heavily injure someone so he could go in and kill them at a later date.

But even with all those ideas he received and implemented, it seemed the whole ordeal wasn't going anywhere. Marth didn't know who or what Ike's source was, but whoever it was, they were good. And if Marth was any good at reading people's thoughts, he was pretty sure Ike was tired of their silly dispute. Surely there were more civil ways to settle their differences. A brawl perhaps? Speaking of brawls, had Marth not been preoccupied with trying to make Ike relocate, he would have been exceptionally bored. For whatever reason, since the newcomers had arrived, no brawls have been scheduled. No tournament had been scheduled. No battles. Nothing. Nada. He briefly noted that Master Hand and Crazy Hand were seriously slacking on the job.

* * *

><p>"What did you do with it?" Marth asked strictly, Falchion pointed straight for Ike's throat. Just when he was going to have a nice civil talk with Ike so they could end their childish war, Ike had to do something unthinkable and beyond offensive.<p>

"With what?" Ike asked back. Marth knew he was playing innocent.

"You know what," Marth stated.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're referring to, Your Highness." For a man who had a very sharp sword pointed at his throat, Ike sure was calm.

Marth glared and replied, "My crown."

"What crown?"

"Don't play dumb with me, mercenary. You know exactly what I'm talking about," Marth growled.

"I don't think I do."

"I wear it every day on my head. There is no possible way you don't have an idea what it is I'm referring to."

Ike pretended like that struck a memory. "Oh! You mean your _tiara_?"

Marth brought Falchion an inch closer to Ike's throat. One more inch and Marth was sure he could cut Ike's carotid artery with ease. "It is a _crown_."

"Whatever you say, princess."

Half an inch. "What did you do with it?"

"What use would I have for your tiara?"

Quarter of an inch. He was so close to bringing Ike to his death. "I'll ask you once more, mercenary. _What did you do with my crown?_"

It seemed like Ike decided now was a good time to tell him.

"Sold it."

* * *

><p>END CHAPTER 2<p>

* * *

><p>Feel free to clicketh the review button.<p> 


End file.
